Life On The Line...Conclusion

Here it is folks the end of this little tale. I would like to thank everyone who stopped by and read my story. It is a true story, the only things changed were the names (to protect my sweet ass). I'm not too sure about the statute of limitations on some things. There are lots of side stories that took place before, during, and after this one. I will touch on those at a later date. I have told this story one or two times but never in this detail, it was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I was amazed at the feelings and emotions the re-telling of this tale brought back to me. I have mixed emotions about ending this. In a way I hate to end it because of the attention you have all given me, yet at the same time I am glad it's over with. Hopefully it will take the paranoia and panic attacks with it.

Here's what happened to everyone.

WBG: Serving 5 years for repeatedly being busted for promoting prostitution.
Thug 1: Copped a plea for 5 years for involuntary manslaughter.
Thug 2: Copped the same plea, plus another 10 years for trying to kill his lawyer.
JB: ????
The Saint: Did 5 years probation for promoting prostitution (side story). Still gambling.
CP Boys: Waiting for WBG to get out of prison.
JJ: Training with Tim Witherspoon.
The Machine: ????
M1: Married with children. Feds raided his fathers house for insider trading.
M2: ????
Brad: Gave up family owned business to deal drugs.
Uncle Paulie: As far as I know he's still Da Man.
Kelli: Still crazy, always will be. That's all I know about her.
The Detectives: Does it really matter? They tried to get me, but they failed.
Trashman, Jen, and the boys: Got the fuck out of town at a later date due to more of my stupidity. Another story for another time.

This story covered a few months. I'm not real sure how long because I was cokeified most of the time. I really miss those days sometimes but mostly I'm OK with life the way it is. Yeah sure, I can't fly off to South Beach or Vegas anytime I want. Yet being on the straight and narrow does have it's advantages. For instance I no longer have to look over my shoulder all the time. I don't have to break out into a sweat every time I see a cop (I still do, but I don't have to). I love my wife and kids and it's great to be reunited (and it feels so good). LOL I learned a few things along the way, some important some not so important. I learned family is everything. I learned true friends like The Saint and JJ are rare treasures. I learned you never hit on 15 when the dealer is showing a 6. But I believe the biggest thing I learned is...

Pimping ain't easy... but it pays real well.

Life On The Line Part 12

I was followed for two days by the guy in the taxi, then it was gone as sudden as it had appeared. Uncle Paulie must have taken care of my little problem. I purchased a black jack table, poker table, craps table and roulette wheel. The Saint and I were now in the gambling business. Well I was anyway, he just "worked" for me and rented me table space.

About two weeks into our little endeavor, things were going good. We were making pretty good money off The Rich Boys and anybody they happened to bring with them. I was dealing black jack to M1, M2, and Brad (he looked like Brad Pitt) one night when we heard the door open. I looked up and Thug 1 was coming around the corner. I think one of The Rich Boys shit himself because the odor in the room took a turn for the worse.

Thug 1 had his hands shoved in the pocket on his hoodie and the hood was over his head, hiding his face. He threw his head back and the hood fell. At about this time, the three brave souls I was dealing cards to, all shot back from the table. It was kind of like you see in one of those cheesy westerns. Thug 1 was looking dead at me and I was looking dead at him. I couldn't go anywhere I was sitting in a corner and my asshole had puckered so tight and so fast I was vacuum sealed to my chair. I dealt another hand of black jack onto the table.

Trashman: "Hit or stand?"
M1: "What?"
Trashman: "Hit or stand?"
M1 (voice shaking): "I can't see the cards from here."
Trashman: "Come back to the table."
M1: "No."
Thug 1: "You ain't scared?"
Trashman: "Nope."
Thug 1: "You don't think I won't shoot you?"
Trashman: "Nope."
Thug 1: "Why?"
Trashman: "Three reasons. One. You're out on bail for a murder you "didn't commit". So you can't very well shoot somebody else. Two. Your lawyer has gotten discovery by now, so you know my testimony clears you. Three. The Italians got to you, and you don't have what it takes to pull the trigger."

Now I know that was a stupid thing to say. You don't poke a sleeping grizzly with a stick and I thought I poked a little to hard when Thug 1 pulled his hands out of the pocket. I swear I heard M1 whimper. Thug 1 shook out a cigarette from a pack, lit it up, and looked at me.

Thug 1: "We're cool."

He turned and walked out. That was that, our business was finished.

Trashman: "Let's play some cards. I need to pay child support."
M1: "Are you fucking stupid?"
Trashman (looking at The Saint): "I'm tired of people asking me that."
M2: "I can't believe you said that."
Brad: "You're out of you're fucking mind."
The Saint: "Trashman knew he wasn't going to shoot."
Trashman: "I was cornered. My ass was stuck to the chair. My legs wouldn't work. And I ain't going out like a bitch."
M1: "You are fucking stupid."

Life On The Line Part 11

I left Kelli's feeling better about life in more ways than one. I guess we were on again. The next day I walked out to my truck I noticed a big black Lincoln parked a few spots down. The driver was obviously Italian. He was sitting in the car reading the paper. When I pulled out of the parking lot he followed me. This went on all day. If I went to the store, he would get out and follow me in. Everywhere I went, the same thing. He would park a couple of spots away and just walk about 30 feet behind me. I went by The Saint's shop and he stayed in his car watching the parking lot.

Trashman: "Hey. Saint come look out this window."
The Saint: "What am I looking at?"
Trashman: "You see that Lincoln?"
The Saint: "The one with the goomba?"
Trashman: "That's the one."
The Saint: "Who is he?"
Trashman: "Not sure. Vinny or Vic or something like that. I haven't asked. He's been following me all day."
The Saint: "Why? Is he a cop?"
Trashman: "No. I went to see Kelli."
The Saint: "Are you fucking stupid?"
Trashman: "I think he works for her Uncle Paulie."
The Saint: "Are you fucking stupid?"
Trashman: "What am I supposed to do? The paranoia is eating me up. We know The Thugs are going to try to catch me here."
The Saint: "Are you fucking stupid?"
Trashman: "Do you want this place shot up and turned into a crime scene?"
The Saint: "No. I guess you had to go see her. But she's going to be the death of you. If you don't wind up getting killed over this crap now you're going to owe Uncle Paulie."
Trashman: "Not even. This favor is for her, not me. I'm in the free and clear."
The Saint: "One of these days that free and clear shit is going to bite you in the ass."
Trashman (laughing): "Until it does, lets play some cards."
The Saint: "I'm not allowed to gamble."
Trashman: "Huh?"
The Saint: "It's part of the deal with The CP Boys. Since WBG called them a Mickey Mouse organization, they want his money, not mine and they're willing to wait for it. In the meantime I'm not allowed to gamble. If they catch me so much as playing quarters, then I owe WBG's debt."
Trashman: "I told you everything would work out."
The Saint: "Fuck you. I need the extra money."
Trashman: "So rent me a spot for a couple of tables."
The Saint (smiling): "They didn't say I couldn't do that. But that what about The Thugs?"
Trashman: "I'll bring JJ and there's also that guard dog in the Lincoln. I'll call Kelli and have Uncle Paulie speed things up."
The Saint: "When do you want to do this?"
Trashman: "Sometime in the next week. I need the money too. When I leave here I'll go buy some tables and have them delivered. If The CP Boys stop by, just show them the receipt in my name."

As I was walking out to my truck I turned and walked over to the Lincoln. I bent down and looked at the guy.
Trashman: "Dude. Don't make it so obvious."
The next day he was following me in a taxi.

Life On The Line Part 10

The next couple of weeks were fairly uneventful. I was out of business and I was relaxing as best as I could. I spent as much time visiting the kids as mine and Jen's arguing would allow. Visiting the kids became work in itself. Everytime I saw a car rolling through the complex at low speeds or high speeds for that matter, I would have to look over at The Machine to see if he recognized the people. He was good for that, he knew everyone in the neighborhood. JJ found out The Thugs had some idea of where I used to live, but for the most part they were watching the girls that used to work for me, and if that didn't pan out they were going to try to catch me at The Saint's shop.

One day I woke up to a knock on my motel room door. I went into a panic. When I looked out the peep hole it was just the maid. I had slept really late. I guess all the stress was getting to me. That's when I decided to call Kelli. We had a very on again - off again relationship. At the time we were off again. I met her shorly after Jen and I had split up. I was walking through a store in the mall, when she offered me a spray of some new cologne. When I declined the bitch sprayed me anyway. I turned to yell at her when I noticed she was a stunning Italian girl. She had a great figure, too much eye shadow, bright red lipstick, bleach blonde hair, and when I looked in her eyes I new she was fucking crazy. I decided then, I had to have her. The bitch was stone cold nuts, that's why we were off again. Right then she was the only one that could put a complete stop to this shit.

Trashman: "Kelli? You there, pick up the phone."
Kelli: "Hey baby. Where have you been?"
Trashman: "I'm in trouble. I need your help."
Kelli: "Come to my house. Whatever you need."

When I pulled up she was sitting on the porch. She ran out to my car and threw her arms around my neck.

Kelli: "What's wrong Daddy?"
Trashman: "We can play later. Right now I need you to listen to me."
Kelli: "OK. What do you need me to do?"

I ran the whole story by her. The whole time she was looking at me with those crazy green eyes. It was hard to keep my mind on the matters at hand. After I finished the story we stood up and went in the house. She sat me at the kitchen table and picked up the phone. She called her Uncle Paulie (for lack of a better name). This part was relayed to me by her.

Kelli: "Uncle Paulie, I need you to do something."
UP: "What do you need?"
Kelli: "My boy friend is in some trouble and I need you to make it go away."
UP: "Is that the same guy from Vegas?"
Kelli: "He didn't mean any disrespect."
UP: "I asked IS that the same guy from Vegas?"
Kelli: "Yes sir."
UP: "I like him. He's got balls."
Kelli: "So, you'll do this for me?"
UP: "What's the nature of his problem?"

Kelli ran the story by her Uncle. She told him everything, including the fact Jen and the boys might be in danger.

UP: "So, your boyfriend is married and you're the goomar?"
Kelli: "It's not like that. They're split up and they're not ever getting back together."
UP: "You sure? I don't want you getting hurt."
Kelli: "What's going to hurt me is if I lose him to those killers."
UP: "OK. I'll take care of it. I need their names and where I can find them."
Kelli: "Thug 1 and Thug 2. They run drugs in P-Town."
UP: "Ask you're boyfriend if he wants a job."
Kelli: "He can't work for you."
UP: "Why not?"
Kelli: "He gets himself in enough trouble."

Life On The Line Part 9

I was in the front yard playing with my kids when JJ showed up. I normally didn't let anyone talk business to me when I was visiting my kids but JJ seemed real nervous.

JJ: "Did you hear?"
Trashman: "Hear what?"
JJ: "The Thugs got arrested last week."
Trashman: "So. They'll never get bail."
JJ: "They already paid it."
Trashman: "How the hell did that happen. There's no bail on a murder charge."
JJ: "Their bail was a million each. They paid it no problem."
Trashman: "OK. That's no fucking surprise."
JJ: "One other thing."
Trashman: "What?"
JJ: "JB told them you went to the cops."
Trashman: "Let me get my kids inside."

I went and got Jen to take the kids inside. It was time to go because we were due to start arguing again. I didn't want the kids to see or hear anymore than they had to. JJ and I got into his car and went for a little ride.

Trashman: "Did you hear anything else?"
JJ: "Yeah. The Thugs want you dead."
Trashman: "OK. Here's what we do. Find The Machine and tell him to hang around close to Jen and the boys, if he sees anyone new in the neighborhood he needs to get in touch with either me or you. Make sure he understands, nothing and I mean nothing happens to them. This is my problem not theirs."
JJ: "Not a problem. What do you want me to do?"
Trashman: "You need to be available to me 24/7. At the same time you need to find out how much they know about me. If it comes down to it, I can take Thug 1, but I need you to keep Thug 2 off of me. He's dangerous."
JJ: "I can take care of both of them."
Trashman: "I know, but Thug 2 is a handful. I would rather you didn't try them both at the same time."
JJ: "You know Dad, you never let me have any fun."
Trashman: "This ain't fun time JJ. These idiots want me dead and we have to make sure Jen and the boys are safe."
JJ: "I'm sorry. I'm just trying to be funny."
Trashman: "It's cool. I know what your doing. Go get The Machine, I'm going to get the super to let him use the apartment across from Jen, so he can keep an eye on her."
JJ: "Will the douche bag do that for you? All he ever does is give me a hard time."
Trashman: "Well you trashed your apartment, and you cause problems, and he gets his coke from me."
JJ (laughing): "Sometimes it pays to know people."

I had JJ drop me off at the super's office. I watched him drive off towards The Machine's house. JJ was as loyal a friend as I have ever had. He would do anything I needed him to and never expect anything in return. Thug 2 was dangerous but JJ was far more dangerous. Thug 2 did things for his benefit only. JJ did it out of love. His Dad had moved him into the apartment when he was 16 and only came back to pay the rent or drop of groceries. For the next two years I was the closest thing he had to a father. He was completely out of control and well on his way to jail. I turned him around (sort of) and got him to use his brains. He is a smart kid, he just never learned to stop and think before he acted. That's all different now. He was well trained in some kind of martial arts. I'm not sure which one, but it's one of those maim and destroy kinds. His teacher told me JJ was a natural born killer. He learned in two days what it took most people six months to learn. I wasn't worried about me.

We got The Machine set up in the apartment across from Jen. He had his instructions, and I didn't worry for one second that he wouldn't follow them. Like JJ he didn't have a father and I had kept my eye on him as he was growing up. When it came to me he suffered from severe hero worship. He knew what I did for a living and he wanted to be a part of it so bad he could taste it. I kept him out of it basically because he just didn't have what it took to make good decisions. If things got a little hairy he wouldn't think his way out, he would use his strength. He didn't have the brains and skill that JJ had. There was a reason we called him The Machine. He was Six feet Four inches and 325 pounds of raw, unstoppable power, that was incapable of thinking. Since I had The Machine watching Jen and the boys, I didn't have to worry about them either.

Life On The Line Part 8

The next day The Saint went downtown and talked to the cops. He managed to convince them he was never WBG's partner. They tried to convince him the meeting between WBG and The Thugs happened a week before Easter, but he stuck to his guns. So we both managed to come out of the mess unscathed. Everything quietened down for a few weeks, that is until JB showed up at my office.

Trashman: "Get the fuck out of here."
JB: "I need a job man."
Trashman: "Didn't I just tell you to get the fuck out of here."
JB: "Really dude I need a job."
Trashman: "If I have to throw you out I will, and I won't use the fucking door."
JB: "OK OK I'm going, but let me ask you a question first."
Trashman: "I ain't in the mood for your shit."
JB: "I just want to know if I'm going to be hit."
Trashman; "As long as you're out of here in five seconds I won't hit you."
JB: "No. I want to know if I'm going to be killed like PRK was."
Trashman: "What the fuck are you talking about? You know as well as I do that had nothing to do with WBG and you know I had nothing to do with it. Wait a minute are you wearing a wire?"
JB: "I'm going. I'm going."
Trashman: "You little rat fuck."
JB: "I'm sorry man."
Trashman: "Get the fuck out and just in case they can't hear me right now tell those fucking asshole detectives to fucking call me."
JB: "I...I...I don't know what you're talking about."
Trashman: "FUCK YOU. GET OUT."

JB ran out like his ass was on fire. The first thing I did was call The Saint and tell him what the cops just tried to pull and he needed to watch his step. The next day I received a call from Detective 1.

Detective 1: "JB was by here and said you threatened him."
Trashman: "Fuck you. You heard it all on the wire. I told him to leave my property, he was trespassing."
Detective 1: "Wire? What wire? I don't know what you're talking about."
Trashman: "Eat shit. You're still trying to connect me to the murder. You've got a hard on for me. In fact I think you're in love with me. Come on Detective 1 you know you wanna stick it in my ass."
Detective 1: "You know using that language over the phone is a crime."
Trashman: "Whatever. I will tell you this. From now on I only deal with Detective 2. I'm done dealing with you. I'm starting to think you're dirtier than I am."
Detective 1: "Let me tell you something you fuck. You're the criminal, not me. I call the shots, not you."
Trashman: "You know using that sort of language over the phone is a crime."
Detective 1: "Fuck you. You piece of..."
Trashman: "Goodbye detective."

I hung up the phone. Enough was enough. I closed down my little operation. There was no way I was going to jail for promoting prostitution after I had just dodged the bullet in the murder investigation. I figured I could live off the winnings I would get from playing cards with the rich boys that hung around The Saints shop. I had enough money I wouldn't have to worry for a while.

Everything smoothed out again for a few weeks. I was just starting to relax. Then JJ (my two legged pit bull) came to see me. He had one of those looks on his face. The kind that says I should be really worried.

Life On The Line Part 7

I laid the story out from the beginning. The whole time The Saint sat there staring at me like I grew another head. When I was done he laid his head on the desk, he stayed that way for awhile. He eventually looked up at me. I don't believe I've ever see anyone turn that pale. He knew as well as I did he could never survive in jail.

The Saint: "What do I do?"
Trashman: "Go in and offer testimony. They're trying to say you are WBG's partner."
The Saint: "I'm not his fucking partner. You were."
Trashman: "I know that, but they want to believe otherwise. I think you should go to them before they come looking for you."
The Saint: "How do I tell them I found out? You weren't supposed to tell anyone."
Trashman: "Tell them JB told you. I think they're mad at him for not telling the truth about the ass kicking anyway. This will piss them off at him even more."
The Saint: "What do I do about WBG?"
Trashman: "Distance yourself from him. If he owes you, collect and if you owe him, pay up. But whatever you do stay the fuck away from him."
The Saint: "I have another problem."
Trashman: "We can't afford another problem."
The Saint: "WBG is into the CP Boys for about 50 grand. He told them he wasn't paying them and that they were a Mickey Mouse operation."
Trashman: "Let me guess. You vouched for him?"
The Saint: "I'm going to have to tell them that he is being investigated so that they will stay away from him, and you now what that means."
Trashman: "You assume his debt."
The Saint: "What the fuck am I going to do? I don't have 50 grand."
Trashman: "We'll cross that bridge later, just be sure you tell them."
The Saint: "Ohhh. I am so fucked."
Trashman: "We'll get the money even if we have to go to Vegas to do it. Just buy some time."
The Saint: "I don't know how much I can buy."
Trashman: "The CP Boys know your good for it. They'll give us what we need. If I have to I'll bust WBG's legs for them, it would be worth the time after this crap. Plus I might be safer in jail after Thug 1 finds out I talked to the cops.
The Saint: "Oh shit, I forgot I owe him a grand."
Trashman: "Wwwhhhhyyyy?"
The Saint: "We were shooting craps."
Trashman: "Pay him and keep him away from here."
The Saint: "OK. OK. Uh how do I keep him away?"
Trashman: "Tell him you quit gambling or something. I don't know. Tell him you just got a big contract and you're going to be too busy to gamble. Just keep him away."
The Saint: "You know he's going to find out."
Trashman: "Yeah but we don't have to rush it. In the meantime I'll send JJ (my two legged pit-bull) by here and you can put him to work. He'll keep you safe."
The Saint: "I could use the help. Will he work for $9.00 an hour?"
Trashman: "Put him on the books and I'll make the rest up to him. He can still do collections at night."
The Saint: "Who do I talk to down at the cop shop?"
Trashman: "Ask for Detective 2. He seems like a straight shooter. Just answer the questions, don't offer any information."
The Saint: "Are we going to be OK?"
Trashman: "We'll be fine. I have a lot of thinking to do, so I'm going to go. Walk outside with me."

On the way to my truck I stopped and looked at the 15 story building again.

Trashman: "Who all has offices in that building?"
The Saint: "Most of it is the bank and a bunch of lawyers. I think up near the top they have some F.B.I. offices. Why?"
Trashman (smiling): "Wait until you see the pictures."